


Judy's First Day

by borrowthemoonlight



Category: 9 to 5 the Musical - Parton/Resnick
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-11-01 00:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20804300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowthemoonlight/pseuds/borrowthemoonlight
Summary: Judy isterrified.She has not slept a wink all night. In fact, she hasn’t slept a wink for the past two weeks thinking about this day. And she’s shed far more tears over it than she’d care to admit.It’s her first day at her new job.





	Judy's First Day

**Author's Note:**

> i just have a lot of feeling about Tiny Emotional Secretary Judy Bernly (who's actually quite tall)

Judy is _terrified_.

She has not slept a wink all night. In fact, she hasn’t slept a wink for the past two weeks thinking about this day. And she’s shed far more tears over it than she’d care to admit.

It’s her first day at her new job.

Every time she’s thought about it since the moment she applied, she’s felt _ill_.

And today is absolutely no exception.

_You’ll be fine once you get there_.

She tells herself over and over. And it’s true, she knows she’ll feel better once she gets there, but that doesn’t make this horrendous anticipation any easier.

There’s no way she can stomach breakfast this morning with her anxiety so high, which is exactly what she expected. But it’s _so_ terribly inconvenient when this happens. She feels nauseous so she physically _can’t_ eat and then she feels nauseous _because_ she hasn’t eaten.

Although, the day isn’t off to an entirely bad start. She automatically got out of bed at 6am, giving herself so much time to get dressed and put on her makeup. She looks _good_. Perhaps a little over dressed? She’s not too sure, she’s put her hat on and then taken it back off again about a thousand times, before putting it on and keeping it there. She has no idea how any of the other employees will look. But she looks formal and she feels _nice _in what she has on. And that’s what matters.

The toast she’s made goes stale by 7am. She managed 3 and a half bites. It’s fine, she’ll feel fine by lunch time and then she’ll eat properly.

By 7:30 she’s just _itching_ to get out the door. She can’t take much more of just wandering round her house trying to find chores to do just to take her find off her panicked thoughts. And every time she sits on the sofa, telling herself she’ll just relax as she waits, her leg bounces uncontrollably. But she can’t leave _too_ early. Then she’ll be the first one there, and that would mean more waiting, and more panicking until others start to arrive. At least here she’s alone. Here no one can see her being so ridiculous. She’ll feel silly later at how she’s acting now. Because everything will be _fine_.

At 8am, she gives in and heads out the door. Okay, 7:53. It’s _good_ to be early, she reminds herself. Especially on her first day, just not so early the building isn’t even open yet.

The drive into the city is not nearly as stressful as she anticipated. She focuses very hard on the road and her destination, and it really takes her mind off of how nervous she is. And it’s a good thing she set off so early, because the traffic is _terrible_.

Parking is a nightmare. There’s nowhere. Not a single spot in sight. She drives to the next block, and it’s also _packed_. By the time she gets to the third block, the panic is setting in again. She set off so early and, oh, gosh, how is she managing to very nearly be running late? On her _very_ first day. It’s so unprofessional. _Finally_, she sees a free space, it’s a tight squeeze, but it will have to do. It’s already 8:46.

She walks as quickly as she can to reach the building, praying to God that it’s the right one, that she hasn’t gotten the directions wrong. Her heart is racing at 100 miles per hour thinking about being in a new environment. Meeting new people. Having to _speak_ to those people. It’s all so overwhelming, the thoughts rushing through her mind, she doesn’t even remember getting to the front of the building. But it is the right one. She lets out a sigh of relief.

By the time she reaches her floor, it’s 8:57am. Thank _goodness_.

Okay, next issue. No, not _issue_. Next _obstacle_. _No, no_. She’s been reminding herself _a lot_ lately not to make inevitable situations negative before they’ve even happened. It’s what’s made being on her own for the first time in her life a little easier. Next _task_. Yes, task works. It’s like the day she had to make all of those phone calls about the divorce. Each one ticked off as a task she’d completed that day. What does it matter that she cried every time she put the phone down? It was a very overwhelming ordeal, and she got through it!

_Just, please, don’t cry now. Come, Judy, next task._

She needs to find someone to speak to.

She looks around nervously, refraining from biting the skin around her fingernails, holding her hands securely in her lap instead. Her heart feels like it’s going to jump right out of her mouth.

She’s been stood alone, not knowing what to do for approximately 20 seconds, and she can feel the prick in the corners of her eyes.

_No. You’ve made it this far, just talk to someone. You can do that. You’re good at talking to people!! Most of time! Kinda!_

_Okay, calm down, deep breath, you are fine._

She takes a few steps forward, “Excuse m-“

“Can I help you with anything, Miss?” A short man in a grey suit asks, coming up behind her.

“Oh! Yes. It’s my first day and I’m not quite sure who I’m supposed to talk to.” She tells him, immediately feeling more comfortable now that she’s actually speaking to someone.

“Well-“

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw all the cars out front, how is anyone supposed to park around here? I did leave an hour early, and it’s a good thing too! Or else I would’ve been late on my very first day!” She blurts, letting out a chuckle and probably smiling too wide. She can be a nervous smiler sometimes.

“Yeah, uh, parking’s a bitch.”

Judy frowns for about a half a second. “Yes, well, I found somewhere eventually. Sorry, but, do you know who I should be talking to?”

“Like I was gonna say earlier,” The man points towards a woman, over by the work desks. “Violet Newstead’s the head of this section. The tall one over there, see?”

“Right! Thank you!”

The man nods and then leaves.

Okay, the tall one, she seems nice. Nice hair, nice shoes. Yeah, she’ll be nice.

Oh dear, now she has to get her attention.

Oh _dear_, now her heart is racing _again_. Why can’t she just feel okay?

_Hey, I have been okay so far. I am okay. I’m handling this. _

She waves enthusiastically in Violet’s direction, a clear nervous expression on her face, which she thinks is alright not to try and hide. It’s _normal_ to be nervous. She’s excited too. She’s fine!

“Hi!” The woman says waving back just as enthusiastically, “I’m Violet Newstead, I’ll be training you here at consolidated!” She beams, holding out her hand for Judy to shake, and Judy is so relieved and taken aback to finally be talking to the right person.

The hard part is over! She made it! And she did everything all by herself!

And Violet seems so nice already, she can practically feel the weight fall off her shoulders.

Judy lets out a huge sigh of relief, smiling, as she says, “I’m Judy Bernly, nice to meet you.” She had no idea she’d already began shaking Violet’s hand until she lets go. “This is quite a big day for me.”

“Big day, big hat!” Violet replies, gesturing to the hat Judy contemplated not wearing this morning. But Violet seems to like it, so she made the right choice. _Phew_.

“Thank you!” She scurries after Violet, making her way over to an empty desk.

_Okay_. Her fingers might be trembling but that is _okay_.

“I left an hour early to make sure I was here on time, but _parking was_ _impossible_, I finally found a space three blocks away an-“

“Okay! All this will be yours, thrilling, isn’t it?” Violet tells her, gesturing to the desk they’re stood at.

Judy can’t help feeling embarrassed at her need to blurt out anything she can think to say. What is it with her? She’s too nervous to speak and then she’s too nervous to _stop_.

“So let’s get started with a typing test, I’m gonna dictate and you type.”

Oh, _goodness_. There’s no _way_ this can end well.

_“From Franklin Hart…”_ Violet begins to read out to her, as she frantically plops herself down in front of the typewriter, and she can’t even remember the first word she’s said. She can’t even find the right keys to press. She can’t even _hear_ Violet at all with how loud her thoughts are.

_Oh no, no, no._ She feels herself begin to tear up. It’s all going so _wrong_, so _quickly_. And she was doing _so_ well.

“Uh- it works a lot better with paper in the typewriter.” Violet says, stopping to point out that there is, in fact, no paper in the typewriter.

Judy’s heart stops and her mouth feels very, very dry. “_Whoops_!” It comes out in a much higher tone than she intended.

“Where did you say you worked before?”

Judy’s lip begins to tremble. “Well I- may have exaggerated the _teensiest_ bit on my resumé.” She’s not proud of it, but it’s true. Who would wanna hire a housewife with no experience? She _had_ to lie. She _needs_ this job. She thinks back to when she first sent her resumé off with the job application. She lost sleep thinking about it. She felt so guilty for lying.

She grabs a piece of paper. She can _save_ this. She can _prove_ she’s good enough for this.

“Exaggerating is saying you’re a great typist, not knowing you need paper? That’s more like psychotic.” Violet tells her, folding her arms. But Judy’s concentrating on getting the paper into the machine and showing Violet she is good enough.

She begins tightening up the machine to secure the paper when-

_Oh, come on, Judy. You can’t be serious_. She thinks, urgently trying to free her scarf from where she’s trapped in it the typewriter. She doesn’t realise she’s holding her breath the entire time.

Well, this is it. She’s ruined her chance for sure.

She frees herself, feeling humiliated again, as she gets as close to Violet as she possibly can, before whispering, _“I’ve never really had a job in an office before.”_

“No kidding!” Is Violet’s immediate, sarcastic response.

Judy laughs nervously, “You’re not gonna tell them are you?” She pleads, taking in a sharp breath, the most hopeful look on her face, as the nervous smiler in her jumps out again.

“Well, I sorta have to.” Violet says bluntly.

Judy’s heart sinks. She exhales. “Yeah.” She nods, trying not to look so devastated.

She grabs her purse from the desk and begins to walk away. She thinks about the morning she’s had. How petrified she’s been, anticipating this day, for _weeks_. How much strength it took to even apply. How proud she felt when she found out she got the job. Her _first ever_ real job. Something for just _her_. She thinks about how she skipped breakfast, the most important meal of the day, all because her anxiety forced her to. She thinks about how out of breath she got just trying to make it here on time, when she _already_ put in so much effort to make it here on time. She thinks about the sheer strength it took for her just to show up, after so much sickly anticipation. After already telling herself over and over that she’s not good enough, and then having to have the exhausting battle of convincing herself that she is good enough, and really mean it.

And eventually, she got to a place where she really, _really_ meant it. She’s good enough to be here. _She is good enough_.

She wants to tell Violet all of this. But instead, she finally bursts into tears.

“I’m sorry.” She stops in her tracks. “But I wasn’t sure where on my resumé to write that I have no skills because,” She strides back over to Violet, “I have spent my entire adult life looking after a husband who just dumped me for a nineteen year old named Mindi.” She sobs, “With an _i_.”

She sits back down. She did not mean for all of that to come out. This wasn’t supposed to be about _him_, about the divorce, about any of that. What a mess she’s made. What a mess she _is_.

“Alright, come on now, don’t cry!” Violet pats her on the back and, instantly, Judy feels more grounded. Violet’s right. She shouldn’t cry. She should collect what little dignity she has left and leave. Back to her empty house. And her empty life.

Violet holds out a tissue box for her, “And you have absolutely no office skills whatsoever?”

“_None_!” She sobs, taking a tissue. “Is this where you call security?” She’d be mortified. Though, she supposes, to be escorted out would really be the cherry on top of this morning. And she’d have a good story to tell to- well- to no one. She’d have no one to tell.

She blows her nose.

And Violet contemplates for a moment. “…_No_!” She blurts. “This is where I tell you that I _love_ a challenge, and welcome to consolidated.” She throws the tissue box down on the desk, before looking at Judy with a sweet smile.

And Judy _cannot_ believe it.

“Oh! Thank you!” Judy’s had to process a lot this morning but _this_, this is what truly tips her over the edge. “Oh!” She flails her hands in disbelief, as her tears flow uncontrollably now. “Thank you so much!” She scoots towards Violet in her chair, wrapping her arms around her waist, as Violet pats her back and then reassuringly strokes her arm.

Violet really is very nice. Judy’s going to like working with her a lot, she just _knows_ it.

And Judy’s _got the job_.

_You did it! You got through the morning and you’re fin- well. Well, you’re alive and you’ve got the job. That’s what matters. It was all worth it!_

Now all she has to do is make it through the rest of the day.

And, after the morning she’s had, what else could _possibly_ go wrong?


End file.
